


The Reflection Of A Lie

by batsy_rocks



Series: now we're two [5]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Bank Robbery, Because Gotham, Blood and Injury, Bruce Wayne Whump, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Concussions, Conversations, Gen, Hostage Situations, Hurt Bruce Wayne, Jim Gordon Doesn't Know That, Jim Gordon is a Damn Good Detective, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Post-Movie 1: Batman Begins (2005), Protective Jim Gordon, Secret Identity, Secrets, but..., kind of, still...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27145048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batsy_rocks/pseuds/batsy_rocks
Summary: Hostage situations and bank robberies are nothing new for the people of Gotham- especially for Gordon and the GCPD. That changes when Bruce Wayne, the city's favorite son, is added to the mix.
Relationships: Jim Gordon & Bruce Wayne
Series: now we're two [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1316141
Comments: 8
Kudos: 152





	The Reflection Of A Lie

**Author's Note:**

> Once again this is based on the Nolan version (post BB and before TDK) but the details are vague enough you can imagine whatever version you like best.

Jim Gordon walked away from the officers talking with the witnesses and securing the scene and headed in the direction one of them had pointed. It didn't take him long to reach his destination, walking past a young officer guarding the door with a nod. His blue eyes immediately were drawn to the figure in a three-piece suit lying on the shiny marble floor just a couple of feet away from the vault.

If Gordon didn't know any better, he would have thought the billionaire was posing for one of those ridiculous celebrity photo sessions magazines liked to publish. Except there was dried blood smeared on one side of the man's face from a small cut in his forehead, right above his left eyebrow.

The sight of blood and Wayne's pale young face took him back to the very first time he met the boy on the night of the Wayne's murder. Almost fifteen years had passed since that tragic night and Gordon still remembered that trembling young boy tucked away in an empty office in the station with his parents' dried blood still on his clothes and hands.

This was the first time Gordon saw him in person since he was that small boy, and seeing him unconscious and hurt brought a pang of guilt to his chest. Wayne had been back in Gotham for only a year now and already he had become a victim of the crime-ridden city that took his parents away from him.

Gordon forced himself to move, a grimace crossing his face as he knelt down beside the unconscious form of the so-called Gotham's prince. He hesitated a moment before reaching carefully to check Wayne's body for blood or any other sign of injury. A couple of minutes later he was able to determinate there was nothing else, but the fact Wayne remained unconscious was worrisome by itself. 

It was very likely they hit him in the head to knock him out, and without knowing how serious the possible blow had been he couldn't risk moving Wayne's body yet. Gordon focused then on trying to get the young man to regain consciousness.

"Mr. Wayne," Gordon called, awkwardly patting Wayne's cheek. There was no response, so he patted the billionaire's cheek more firmly and kept calling his name.

"Gordon," Wayne _growled._ There was no other word for it. It was low and husky, and totally at odds with the playboy's usually light and carefree tone. Gordon blinked down at him, surprised not only by the recognition of who he was but also the familiarity with which Wayne called him _Gordon._ It was as if that was what the playboy called him on a regular basis.

"Mr. Wayne," Gordon called again after a moment, watching Wayne's brow furrow slightly, eyes squeezed shut. "Are you alright, Mr. Wayne?"

The billionaire's eyes shot open a second later. He looked at him straight in the eye for just a second before his eyes darted away, taking in his surroundings. A sharp and alert look flicked in those dark eyes. Too sharp and alert for someone that had been hit in the head and had just regained consciousness, let alone for an air-headed playboy, widely known for having more money than common sense.

Gordon shook his head slightly. Surely his eyes were playing tricks on him after hours locked up in his tiny dark office trying to decipher the unreadable scribbles that were some of his officers' reports. That was all.

"Ah, Mr. Wayne?"

Wayne's half-lidded gaze slowly came back to Gordon.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh." Wayne's eyebrows were drawn together as he seemed to be seriously considering the question. "I'm fine, I think. Just a little dizzy and confused."

"You probably shouldn't try to move just yet," Gordon said as he put a hand to Wayne's shoulder, stopping the billionaire's movement. "The paramedics should be here any second now."

Wayne settled down again, one of his hands coming up to touch his head. A grimace flickered across his face as he touched what must be a sore spot on the back of his head. "Well, that explains the headache," He murmured almost to himself.

Gordon slowly drew his hand away from Wayne's body when it became clear the playboy didn't seem willing to try to move just yet.

They fell into an uncomfortable silence then, with Wayne just lying there looking up at the ceiling and Gordon awkwardly kneeling at his side as they waited.

The billionaire looked comfortable and relaxed, almost as if he were lying on the best bed money could buy instead of the hard and cold floor. Gordon, on the other hand, was far from comfortable. He couldn't stop himself from throwing looks at the open door behind him, hoping the paramedics would truly be there soon. So far no luck.

"Ah. Officer Gordon, is it? Would you mind telling me what happened exactly?"

"You don't remember?" Gordon questioned sharply, wondering yet again where the hell were the damn paramedics. 

Wayne looked up at the ceiling with eyebrows knitted together. "I'm not sure. We're on a bank, right? I think I remember that, but the rest it's kind of a blur. Of course, this is Gotham, so I guess there was a robbery or something like that."

It wasn't exactly a question, so Gordon was left surprised by the young man's deduction. Not that what happened was all that hard to piece together. Like Wayne said, this was Gotham after all, but still. This was Bruce Wayne, the playboy everyone thought was too busy with pretty people and fast cars to care about anything else. 

Then again, given Wayne's past maybe he shouldn't be surprised.

He cleared his throat, aware of Wayne's gaze on him. "Yes. Yes, there was a robbery."

"Was anyone else hurt?"

Gordon hesitated for a moment before answering. "A couple of people were hurt but nothing too serious." He deliberately didn't mention the two deaths. There was no reason for him to know that right now.

Wayne bit his lip. "And the criminals?"

The question made the feeling of guilt Gordon had been pushing away so far come back full force. If only they had gotten here just a couple of minutes early... "I'm afraid they escaped, but the GCPD is already working to find them."

"Well, I'm sure you will catch them soon," Wayne replied lightly, the corner of his lips curling up slightly.

Gordon found himself blinked down at the billionaire yet again, this time wondering if it was naivety or merely wishful thinking what inspired his words. While it was true things were slowly getting better since the Bat showed up, years of corruption and crime couldn't be fixed in a matter of months. Before he could even think of the best way to answer, he was saved from having to do so by the arrival of one paramedic.

He nodded to the young man, Jack, his name tag read, as he moved closer and went straight to where Wayne was lying. Gordon bit back a groan as he got back to his feet, watching the paramedic kneel down at Wayne's side and put the bag he had been carrying at his side as he started asking questions and examining the billionaire.

Gordon pushed his glasses up his nose, moving a few steps away to offer them some privacy. He wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there and go back to do his damn job, but he could already imagine Commissioner Lobe's reaction if he left Wayne's side while the billionaire was injured _after_ being held hostage, no matter how minor the injuries seemed. He had no problem going against Lobe's politically-oriented orders when they were in the way of doing his job, but in this case, it wasn't worth it and he knew it. 

Besides, he had to admit he didn't mind it all that much. Even after all these years, there was a part of him that still saw the same pale little boy in the police station when he looked at Wayne, and so he was glad to have the opportunity to stay here and make sure he was going to be alright. Of course, the rest of him was scoffing at himself for his sentimentality. The billionaire probably didn't remember him nor cared if he stayed or not, and yet here he was, feeling protective of him.

Gordon turned when he felt the distinct feeling of being watched, but found Wayne and the paramedic speaking quietly, both of them ignoring him.

He sighed as he leaned against the wall, accepting the fact that at least for the next few minutes, the Wayne heir was his responsibility. Moreover, the sooner they could get Wayne out of here, the sooner the technicians and the forensic team could move in to start processing this part of the bank.

The paramedic was putting his flashlight away when he looked again and saw him search for a few things in his bag before starting to clean the gash on Wayne's forehead.

A few minutes later Gordon moved closer as he saw Jack help Wayne back to his feet. The paramedic remained at the billionaire's side until he seemed more or least steady on his feet, and then Gordon came to stand at Wayne's other side as the young paramedic knelt down and started putting his things back in his bag.

"Is he okay?" Gordon inquired with a nod at Wayne. The playboy only gave him a curious look.

"Mr. Wayne seems to be just fine. He presents signs of a concussion, and the laceration on his temple wasn't deep enough to need stitches, so I treated it." Gordon eyed the butterfly bandages on the billionaire's forehead. "He refuses to go to the hospital, but the injury doesn't necessarily warrant it anyway."

Gordon turned to the playboy.

Wayne made a face. "Can you imagine all the fuss the press will make if they see me leaving in an ambulance? Alfred would be _livid_ if we have to deal with all of that if it's unnecessary."

One of his eyebrows went up at the name, but the paramedic went on before he even considered asking who Alfred was. The name sounded vaguely familiar.

"As I told Mr. Wayne," Jack continued, standing up again. "He can go home as long as he has someone who can monitor him in case any other symptoms appear in the course of the next 24 to 72 hours."

Gordon was quite impressed with the kid's cool demeanor and efficiency. People double his age and experience would be a sputtering mess while dealing with the man who owned half of city, but he was acting as if Wayne was just another patient. It made the corner of Gordon's lips twitch. He turned to the playboy, both eyebrows up in inquiry this time.

Wayne made a small, stiff movement that Gordon interpreted as a shrug, a grimace crossing his face. "Alfred lives with me so that's not an issue."

The paramedic nodded as if that sealed everything, tuning to look Gordon for further questions. The Lieutenant nodded, getting yet another nod in return as the kid took his leave with a quiet 'Mr. Wayne. Lieutenant.'

Gordon turned to the billionaire once they were alone again. Wayne was just standing there, hands shoved into his pockets as he looked after the paramedic. Even with the flecks of blood on his clothes and skin, and his slightly disheveled appearance, Gordon was surprised to notice the man standing at his side didn't look like someone who had been unconscious on the floor mere minutes ago.

Wayne truly was the very picture of elegance and poise. At least when he wasn't drunk, insulting his 'friends', and burning down buildings.

The Lieutenant cleared his throat, drawing Wayne's attention. "I can have one of my officers drive you home if you like, Mr. Wayne."

"That's not really necessary," Wayne dismissed with a polite smile. "And please call me Bruce."

Gordon gave him a firm look. "I insist, Mr. Wayne. You can't drive with a concussion."

"Bruce," Wayne corrected lightly, only to deflate a second later. "And I guess you're right. _But,_ I'm sure the fine men with the police department have better things to do than act as my drivers, so may I borrow a phone, please? I'm afraid those brutes took mine."

Gordon pulled out his battered, old cell phone from his pocket and handed it to Wayne, who flashed him a quick smile and a thank you as he took it. He was left waiting for a reaction from Wayne as he watched him. He had fully expected a pitying look or maybe some confusion about how to handle such an ancient phone.

"I'm sure Alfred is already on his way here if what happened was already broadcasted, but I should let him know I'm okay," Wayne explained, holding the phone to his ear as he waited for the call to be answered.

Gordon gave a short nod, even if the billionaire wasn't looking at him anymore. It was more than clear who that Alfred person was.

"Hi Alfred, it's me. Oh, I figured you had." Wayne's face turned pained. "It was so awful, Alfred! One moment everything was fine and then these brutes came in waving their guns around and shouting demands. I don't think I will be coming to the bank again. It's a very dangerous place."

Hearing the playboy's words, Gordon couldn't help but be reminded of the general population of the city that, unlike Wayne and the other one percent of the wealthy citizens of Gotham didn't have the luxury of an ivory tower where they could hide when things got really bad in the city. The people that had to keep living on the Narrows after Crane's mess. The people living around Park Row, known as Crime Alley after the Waynes' tragedy.

None or which was Wayne's fault, of course. He was sure that, if given the chance, pretty much all of Gotham would do the same thing.

"Where are you, Alfred? Oh, that's great because I need a lift home." The corner of Wayne's lips lifted upward ever so slightly, the small, gentle smile it formed making his eyes shine softly. It was but a small twitch of lips, and yet it felt more real than the blinding smiles Gordon had seen plastered all over magazines and TV screens. "Of course not! I didn't, Alfred. I swear! Yes. Yes, I'm fine, I promise. It's just a little hit to the head, but they wouldn't let me drive by myself. Hmm. Okay. I'll see you soon."

Gordon averted his gaze, pretending he hadn't been watching the billionaire's every expression and overhearing the conversation.

"He's already on his way here, so it shouldn't take him long to arrive," Wayne explained lightly. The smile on his face when he turned to Gordon was closer to the bright, overdone smile he always wore rather than the one from just seconds ago. He handed Gordon his phone back. "Thank you- Lieutenant, was it?"

Huh. So, Wayne had trouble remembering his title now even though he remembered his name and identified him right after he regained consciousness. The billionaire was watching him expectantly, so Gordon forced himself to respond.

"Yes. And you're welcome."

Wayne smiled brightly in response.

"We should get out of here," Gordon said a moment later with a nod to the door. The billionaire followed him without a word.

Wayne froze as soon as he put a foot out of the vault, his eyes zeroing on the large puddle of blood on the floor a couple of feet away from where he was standing.

Gordon grimaced, gently nudging the billionaire to continue walking. "This way, please."

The younger man hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking Gordon's way briefly before doing as he was told. Wayne seemed rather steady on his feet as they slowly walked toward the lobby of the bank, but Gordon decided to stay close just in case.

"Is it okay if I stay inside until Alfred gets here, Lieutenant?" Wayne asked quietly. "I'm sure there's press outside and I really don't feel like dealing with them right now."

The request took Gordon by surprise. Everyone knew how much Wayne loved the spotlight, after all, but of course, he didn't have a _concussion_ when he was partying and smiling for the cameras. And now that the thought was in his head, it made perfect sense to let Wayne stay here where they could keep an eye on him rather than put him in a police car or something. He would have to spare a couple of officers to guard him against the press still outside if he did that.

With nothing newsworthy to report, the media would handle Wayne's presence as breaking news. It was stupid to think they didn't know about the billionaire's presence buy now with so many witnesses.

"I don't see why not, Mr. Wayne. As long as you don't go wandering around interfering with the work of my officers."

Wayne bit his lip, gleaming eyes flickering away from Gordon for just a second, before moving back to his face. "I believe I can refrain from doing that, Lieutenant."

Gordon stared at the billionaire with narrowed eyes, wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean. Wayne simply stared back with a smooth expression, a small wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Wayne really was a strange man, Gordon thought with one last look at his face before leading him to a quiet corner of the bank.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure if I'm happy with this fic. I worked in it for a long time, struggling to decided how I wanted Gordon to act. First I made Gordon super annoyed and not quite that fond of Bruce Wayne, but then I didn't like that and changed things to make him a little protective instead. Then I changed them again to make him ever more protective and here we are. I hope you enjoyed it and be sure to leave me a comment!
> 
> Also, thank you very much for all the kudos, comments and bookmarks in the previous parts of this series!
> 
> English is not my native language, so any tips or corrections are welcome.


End file.
